The Night Mother's Embrace
by C. de la Fere
Summary: Eventually Morag Tong vs. Dark Brotherhood: Following the career of one of the DB's more unique recruits. How can she cope with what happened? Was it really the Morag Tong's doing? Can the Brotherhood help? and what do the DB's Vampires have to offer her?
1. Belmorn's Inn, Leyawiin

**Disclaimer: ** Alval and Shaleez and the whole setting/concept belongs to Bethesda Softworks and to the wonderful world of Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.

**Authors Note: **BE WARNED! If you have not yet played through the **whole** Dark Brotherhood questline, this entire thing in rife with _**SPOILERS**_! And I know that Shaleez didn't exactly use a spear in the game, but I prefer the image of her using a spear (in a very Morrowind fashion) rather than longsword. In fact, there will probably be a lot of Morrowind referances strewn in randomly, but I'm going to stay as canon to Oblivion as possible . Enjoy!

**Essential Background:** Now, imagine with me if you will: The Champion of Cyrodiil has never touched the Dark Brotherhood. The whole storyline associated with them was never activated. Cheydinhal is still functioning under Lucien Lachance, Ocheeva and Vicente. The Black Hand has not seen the addition of Mathieu Bellamont as silencer under J'Ghasta. In fact, he has yet to appear within the walls of the Cheydinhal sanctuary. That being said, our story starts in Leyawiin...

* * *

"Put that back, Alval! I saw that!" Yelled a stocky, dark haired Imperial from the other side of the pub in obvious frustration. 

"Put what back barkeep?" replied Alval, in as innocent a manner as was possible for a thief who knew he'd just been caught.

The Imperial turned around to face the crook who had plopped back down at his usual table and, smiling, already uncapped the stolen bottle of brandy.

"Damn it, dunmer..." he started, but the barkeeper turned back to the other customer after realizing that it wasn't a battle he cared enough to fight. Not right now anyway. "Fine, but expect that to go on your tab!"

"Heh, thanks Belmorn," replied Alval with a sparkle in his deep red eyes. "Always such a gracious host," he muttered. "_He's got eyes in the back of his head._"

"Uh huh," came the half hearted reply from a young Argonian seated opposite Alval. Although a young woman of around twenty years, she was a tall figure and a strong presence. Her loose dark robes only partially hid the skin tight suit of light armor that she wore over well defined muscles. She had a steel spear strapped to her back, a weapon typically favored by her species. Mostly green scales with small patches of red covered what little of her body was exposed, and gold earrings could be seen peaking out from under a loose hood. When she spoke, it was in the quiet, contemplative voice of an inferior to their superior – although her words did not always reflect such a relationship.

"You know," she continued with the look of a woman who was not very comfortable in such a populated environment "you could try paying for your meals once in awhile. I mean, you aren't exactly poor."

"You're right, I'm not," he said. His features contracted briefly into a grin before tipping the bottle to his mouth. In fact, everything about Alval suggested that he was at least relatively well off. Dressed in a well tailored burgundy outfit of fine linen that matched his bright red eyes and contrasted noticeably with his dark blue-gray skin, the Morrowind native stood out among the rough and humbly dressed frequenters of Belmorn's Leyawiin establishment. "But stolen drinks just have an extra kick to them," he replied with a sparkle deep in his eyes. "I grew addicted, and was never able to completely kick the habit."

"One would think that as a merchant, you would appreciate the concept of payment." Her voice was the characteristically raspy one of an argonian, now filled with a mixture of dissaprovement and respect.

"Oh, believe me, I do." Alval returned. "Just when it's out of someone else's wallet." Smirking, he sat the flask down and grabbed a piece of bread from the plate in the middle of the table.

"Indeed," returned the Argonian, shifting slightly in her seat to motion to an inner pocket. "So is this all?" she asked tapping said pocket that now contained a piece of paper that the dunmer had given her earlier.

"That's all," Alval replied. "I know you haven't been working for me for very long, so I'll be nice and leave the rest up to you. Just so long as I get my goods."

"You'll get them," the Argonian assured. She took special pride in her work and was not about to let her new employer down.

"Good" he replied. "Your enthusiasm is particularly refreshing," he grinned. "Especially after my last employee." The grin turned to a sour, disapproving frown as he leaned closer emphasizing his point by lowering his voice. "His last contract for me?" Alval started, staring at the Argonian - then shook his head as if to indicate how it had gone. Straightening up a little, he continued "he was noticed by the wrong people – during the job. Botched the whole deal and got himself shot full of arrows in the process." The argonian outwardly seemed unphased by the story, but Alval knew his point was hitting home. "Caused me a good bit of grief that did. Not to mention a _lot_ of cleaning up." His eyes had darkened a bit. "And you know how the organization likes such matters to stay personal."

The argonian sipped at her own drink while listening to Alval's story. Although she hadn't outwardly shown concern, she knew that after such a disappointment, he was expecting a great deal from her. But she was ready to give this job everything she had. Anything for a man who had honored her to the point that Alval had. "I am sure that it would be detrimental to the organization for it's Hand to jump to someone's rescue every time a job was botched," she replied tactfully. "I am sure that they have matters to attend to that are larger than localized mishaps."

"Indeed, they do," he said gravely. "Much greater matters than you could think." He sat back and picked up the brandy again, losing much of the strict nature that had briefly flashed across his features.

She nodded and he returned to his bottle. They continued to eat, but as Alval had taken the time during the meal to study his new employee (and she him) the job had only been given once most of the food had left their plates. It was not long before the argonian dug into her pocket to pay for her supper. Leaving seven septims on the table, she pulled her hood further over her face and readjusted the strap that held her spear fast to her back. Rechecking her pocket to make sure all of her orders were there, the woman stood up to take her leave of the dunmer.

"May our mother wrap you in her embrace," she whispered to Alval as she started to leave the table.

"May she watch over you, Shaleez," he replied. And with that, the Argonian left the tavern completely unnoticed.

Alval smiled, picked up his flask of brandy again and leaned back against his chair. "This new one is good," he thought, "almost makes this last ordeal worth it…but then, I won't know for sure until she comes back with a job well done."

He sipped at his drink. From his table in the corner of the small tavern, the dunmer could observe everyone in the room. No one seemed to care of course, as it was a little hole-in-the-wall pub that both the rich and the important tried to avoid. People here were used to being watched, or at least used to thinking that they were. His eyes passed over everyone slowly, observing the way they moved, where their gazes drifted, who spoke with whom. Nothing of interest.

Or was there? That woman was new here, what was her business? He ran through a checklist of quick observations on her. Physical appearance: heavily cloaked, pale Imperial with dark hair barely showing from under a deep hood. Not that shrouded characters were uncommon here, but Alval's interest was piqued. Manner: she had the hunched over posture of someone expecting to be caught. Again, not a very uncommon sight in this place. But what business did someone so ragged and guilty have eating such a quality meal in a dump like this? And _paying_ for it?

He watched her for a full half of an hour while she ate in silence. She was an expert at blending in. Had Alval not been so experienced in people watching, he was sure that the woman would never have crossed his mind. No one else took any notice of her. No one except the bosmer waiter who had seemed to make it his personal duty that she be appeased.

"She's rich," Alval thought. "And used to it. Probably handing that kid septims like they were kwama eggs."

" 'Nother one, Alval?" asked Belmorn interrupting the dunmer's thoughts. He looked down and realized that he'd been sipping out of an empty flask.

"Naw, not tonight, barkeep," he replied. "I think I'm about ready to turn in." It was nearing midnight and there was a long trek ahead of him tomorrow. Of course, there was always a long trek ahead of him tomorrow, but he was used to living like this. The merchant wouldn't have it any other way.

Reaching into an inner pocket in his embroidered burgundy shirt, Alval took out a handful of septims and started counting out the price of his meal (minus the flask of brandy of course) when he noticed that the tall, muscular nord in the corner was also eyeing the imperial woman rather intensely. Figuring he may as well stick around to watch incase anything of interest came up, he repocketed the gold and turned back to Belmorn.

"You know, maybe just one more bottle." Again, he flashed the barkeeper his innocent smirk and sunk casually back into his chair.

"Right here, Alval." Belmorn said, handing him another drink. "Double price – just for you."

"You are too kind." The dunmer replied trying not to hide his obvious sarcasm.

Another fifteen minutes passed rather uneventfully, but that nord's gaze never shifted from the woman in the corner. Finishing her meal, she flagged down Belmorn, purchased a room for the night, and began to gather her belongings. Alval watched out of the corner of his eyes as the nord slowly got up and walked over to where the woman was starting to stand. She'd pulled her hood up further over her face and slung a small pack over her shoulder when the man stopped, directly in front of her. Alval had to strain to hear him speak in a low voice "I'm surprised you've made it all the way out here, m'lady."

Whether this had been meant as a threat or not, Alval wasn't sure; but one thing was for certain: the woman did _not_ take kindly to being addressed like that. Within the next few seconds she had leapt up, dropped her satchel, and drawn an elven dagger – slashing the man right across the midsection in one fluid motion. The hulking nord stumbled backward trying to take out his own weapon, but she was too quick for him. Her dagger was buried in his neck before he had moved into an attacking position.

The tavern drew in a collective breath and everyone sat up or moved back slightly – all eyes on her. Belmorn seemed torn between living, and reprimanding his customer for killing someone in his pub. Apparently he chose life over honor and simply stood where he'd been, waiting for her to make the first move. The woman looked around at the tavern's other inhabitants as if asking if there were any other challengers. Leisurely, she removed her dagger from the nord, gathered her things, and dumped a handful of septims on her table.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," she said to Belmorn as she walked slowly towards the stairs to her room. Belmorn just stood and watched her pass, mouth slightly agape. Alval couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as she went by him.

"You got a problem, dark elf?" the woman snapped. "Cause I can fix it real quick." Her eyes bored into him from under her dark hood.

Alval leaned foreword and looked straight into her penetrating stare warning "you come any closer to me, Imperial, and I'll turn your bones to ash." Impressed as he was, no one insulted him without a fight.

She seemed braced for an attack, but decided against it at the last moment. Something changed in her gaze as if she'd realized that Alval wouldn't pose any threat if left unprovoked. "Fine by me, dunmer." She returned coldly. "Stay out of my business and I'll stay away from you." With that, she turned and mounted the stares to her room.

"By Akatosh!" exclaimed Belmorn in a hushed sigh of relief. He looked down at the unfortunate nord. "Only the Nine know what he did to piss her off," he said "but they know that I'm not going to follow suit."

"Belmorn's seen it all," thought an impressed Alval, so he didn't feel too bad about ducking out of the main part of the tavern and going up to his own room without offering to help clean up. In fact, he managed to slip away without taking another septim out of his pocket. "I'll probably have to cough it up tomorrow" he mused, "but not tonight. I've got work to do tonight."


	2. The Night Visitor

**Disclaimer:** The whole setting and concept belongs to Betheseda Softworks. Lin, however, is my own (but that's it).

**Author's Note:** THANKYOU for your comments! To answer a few, there is no in-game source that says that Bellamont was J'Ghasta's silencer, but a good sized group of us got together and reconstructed as much of the Black Hand as we could. And seeing as how this site won't let me post links, I'll put a link to our conclusions up on my front page :)

Also, on a personal note concerning this story...I may end up sticking Bellamont in as a low ranked member in the Cheydinhal sancyaury. Honestly, I haven't decided yet how far along this is time wise, so I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Other than that, enjoy!

* * *

"Mara!" she cursed after closing the door to her rented room. The tall Imperial woman paced fervently back and forth in the cramped quarters before dropping her satchel onto the ground near the bed. "Leyawiin!" she thought. "I've made it all of the way to Leyawiin, and they still follow me." She flung herself into a sitting position on the edge of her bed briefly before getting back up to continue pacing. 

So far! How much further? Maybe she'd gone the wrong way…Divines knew that the last thing that she wanted to do was to leave Cyrodiil, but right now that was looking like the only choice. Wrong way indeed, this was as far south as she could go. Should she have gone north? Past Bruma perhaps? No – that was too cold for her up there, despite the fact that it was still inside Cyrodiil.

But she'd been found – maybe even followed. And for how long? Certainly she'd have noticed such a large nord on her tail…right? Nords weren't exactly commonplace this far south and she made note of everything that seemed out of the ordinary. But he'd still found her. And who knows what would have happened had he lived to tell anyone.

She stopped pacing and sat down again. Perhaps he HAD told someone. What if he wasn't alone? He could have been working with a partner. Or two. Or even more than that. Oblivion, suddenly the whole of Cyrodiil was after her! Or at least that was what it seemed like.

Restlessly, she got up and walked over to a small table in the corner. Bending over slightly to reach the table, she poured some water out of a ceramic pitcher and into a bowl to wash off her dagger. She'd never exactly killed anyone before this, but quite frankly, she didn't feel too sorry for the guy either. "It was his choice to follow me," she thought. "His choice entirely. He chose to threaten me…so it was his choice to fight me! And Mara, if you fight in self defense, then it isn't a sin to kill in self defense…right?"

"Right," she answered herself as she dried the clean blade. Maybe leaving the province _wasn't_ such a bad idea. It would give things time to cool down here. Either way, if she was going anywhere else, Elsweyr was not the province she wanted to run to. Nor did she like the idea of living in the Black Marsh. Maybe she could catch a ship leaving out of Leyawiin to somewhere more familiar – like Hammerfell or southern Morrowind. You know, Morrowind didn't sound so bad when compared to Elsweyr…especially south of the island of Vvardenfall – that was a pretty friendly area to Imperials like herself.

She sighed. "Then it's settled," she thought to herself quickly. "I know it's a hasty decision, but if I need to, I need to. I'll catch the first boat tomorrow morning out of Leyawiin to any other…more northern…province."

Reasoning that sleep would be a good thing as she had had virtually none in the last few days - and she would need to be awake and alert for the journey to an outlaying province - the woman set about to make the room as secure as she could so that she could drift off for a few hours safely. Locking the door with her room key, she cast a quick spell on the door to enforce it and magically seal it to a degree. That would deter at least SOME from breaking into her room while she slept. Tying a string of septims to the handle of the door was her second defense as she was a light sleeper nowadays and the sound would surely wake her and give her a few seconds warning in case the door was opened. The last line of defense included a set of extremely light armor enchanted to protect its wearer against a degree of magical attacks and her elven dagger clutched in her hand at her breast.

"There," she thought, the event at dinner still fresh in her mind and paranoia at its height, the woman wondered if she would truly get any sleep tonight. "Well," she reasoned, "I guess if the Divines want me found or killed, it will happen anyway" and she prayed that that was not the case before stashing her satchel under her bed and crawling tentatively under the covers and drifting off. It would seem that, while paranoia can sometimes be an agent of insomnia, exhaustion can be a decidedly strong counter.

It would also seem that the Divines did indeed have plans contrary to the woman's prayers, because no one in the Inn noticed at all when a silent figure snuck up to the woman's door, picked the lock, dismantled the magical doorjamb, and entered without even the hanging septims making the slightest sound. Only when the door was closed again, and it was standing inside the woman's room did it remove the invisibility spell which had cloaked its entrance. A tall, imposing person robed entirely in black stood in the middle of the Imperial woman's room, contemplating the sleeping outlaw. His eyes studied her as a mage studies alchemical ingredients. She looked fine on the surface…and had certainly proven herself. Why else would he be standing here? But would he have use for her? There was only one way to find out.

The figure leaned close to the sleeping woman and spoke into her ear, almost in a whisper, "you sleep rather soundly for a murderer."

Blue eyes flashed open to meet bright red ones staring back, only inches from her face. She tried to bring her dagger up and force it into his skull, but when he'd positioned himself close to her he'd made sure that that he could back away quickly, remaining unharmed.

The woman threw herself out of bed and stood, facing her assailant who had backed up and raised his hands toward her. Her mind was racing. That gesture of his either meant that he was surrendering, or he was going to blast her into Oblivion with some terrible magical attack. Considering he had made it past her modest barrier, she braced herself for the worst, and was surprised when nothing happened.

"Perhaps not _too_ soundly after all," a low, composed voice came from under the dark hood. "But enough so." He was both impressed and amused with her, but he was always amused at the reactions he got upon confronting potentials. "I am not here to harm you, so relax…you will need a clear mind for what I am about to propose."

"Who are you?" she shot. "What do you want?" There was no way she was about to trust anyone who broke into her room and managed to sneak up on her despite all of the precautions that she had taken.

"I may ask that of you," he replied calmly. Judging by the red eyes that she'd been met with upon awakening, and the seemingly dark complexion that she could kind of distinguish from under his hood, she guessed that he was a dunmer, but that was all that she could tell. His accent didn't even give away whether he was from Cyrodiil or Morrowind. Either way, he knew magic, and was probably a pretty decent adversary.

"But you are correct," he continued in the same cold, calm manner. "Introductions are indeed in order." He lowered his hands to his sides and she perceived a grin forming from under his hood. "My name is Alval Uvani, and I am a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood."

"You're the dunmer from the tavern," she said. He nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "Wait…Dark Brotherhood?" That wasn't comforting. "You mean that group of assassins that only half of Cyrodiil believes in?" Again, he nodded…but this time it was accompanied with a chuckle. Oh Mara, this was not good.

"We are definitely spread well beyond Cyrodiil, I assure you," he said in an amused tone, "and whether or not everyone _believes_ in us doesn't matter to me one way or another." He continued to glare at her with his gleaming red eyes. "We do very much exist, and I am here to offer you a proposal."

At this point, the woman started to realize that she was still very much alive, despite her proximity to an assassin from a mythical order. Relaxing was far from her current state, but she did start to drop her defensive stance, if only slightly. Besides, curiosity was beginning to take hold. What in Tamriel could a Dark Brotherhood assassin offer _her_? No…scratch that…first she wanted to know why he was even in her room. Or was he? Likely, this was just a nightmare sprung from the episode in the tavern. Besides, there wasn't even really a Dark Brotherhood. Not anymore at least. Not in modern times. No, "this is silly" she said out loud, mostly to herself.

"Is it?" he asked her. "Many would consider my offer an honor. For you see, I am offering you a position in our order." She gaped at him…this wasn't happening. He continued. "You see, I watched you tonight – you were cold, ruthless. You killed him quickly, efficiently, and in cold blood as he was unarmed and (to my knowledge) unthreatening. That is just what you need to join our family." His eyes glistened. "Do you feel remorse for what you did tonight?" he asked.

She was about to say yes. About to elaborate on how taking lives was a terrible sin, punishable by the Divines. But then she remembered what she had sworn to Mara just an hour or so before. "I killed him," she said slowly "in self defense. I am not sorry for having done it, but it was not done in cold blood!" wasn't it? Mara, help her! Maybe she _had _sinned tonight. But still, there was no remorse. Was that wrong of her?

"You seem confused, my dear," he said "but that is natural, after your virgin kill." He smirked. "Here is my proposal. You can either accept it, or not. Know that not accepting this will not incur the wrath of the Brotherhood, so the choice is completely yours." This time, it was she that nodded, simply out of lack of any other response. "If you do decide to join our family, go north. Half of a day's walk south of Bravil along the Imperial road will take you to a small farm owned by a Breton man named Maurice Sele. Kill him. He has been marked by the Brotherhood, and your fulfillment of this contract will be your acceptance of my offer to join our elite family."

The woman stared at him, expecting to wake up any minute. Alval knew that look all too well, and knew that she would probably not believe any of this until she woke up the next morning with a token from him beside her. "Take this" he said, and held out a well balanced dagger – a typical gift bestowed by speakers to potentials. "It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. Keep it as a gift from my family, and as a token to remember our meeting by." He held it out to her.

She eyed him, and it, suspiciously. What if this was true after all? She took the blade in her hands – it certainly felt real. It was a solid blade and fit perfectly into her hand, as if it was made to be there. "Mara, what did you send me?" she thought, but then realized something that may greatly influence her decision in this matter.

"I'm,…ummm," she started timidly, almost afraid to address the dunmer standing before her – quite a change from how she had spoken to him earlier that evening.

"Yes?" he asked. "Please, I invite you to ask any questions of me that you may have before making a decision." He seemed helpful enough. Almost friendly…if that was possible for an assassin like him.

"Well…" she started again. "I'm kind of on the run, you see." She looked back up from the blade to Alval. "I'm trying to find a place where I won't be chased to, and even then I know people will probably follow me…"

Alval smiled. "We are well hidden," he replied. "And we can keep you so as well."

She nodded and fell silent again. He stood there sharing in the silence for a moment, seeming to absorb it. "If you have nothing else to ask of me, I will leave you in peace to decide," he said softly. She nodded again, not moving and not intending to say anything else.

"Very well then," he replied. "Once Maurice is dead, I will appear to you the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, bearing the love of your new family." He turned to leave.

"I'm Lin," she said softly. He looked back at her. "I mean" she continued "you did ask me who I was…"

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sister Lin." Alval said.

"You meant it back there…in the tavern, didn't you?" she asked, timid for the first time that night. "When you said you'd 'turn my bones to ash' if I did anything..."

"After your display, it was a distinct possibility," he said amiably. "But thankfully for both of us, it did not come to that." He gave her one last smile, and with that, the dunmer disappeared under his invisibility spell and left the room, leaving a seriously confused Lin behind, still clutching her new dagger.


	3. Swept Up, But Not Away

**Disclaimer:** I pretty much don't own any of it…

**Author's Notes:** Yeah, that's Marie Antoinette from Cheydinhal in this chapter, let's pretend she's been there at least as long as Bellamont, and is acting as a messenger for Lucien right now - you'll see later why I needed SOMEONE from Cheydinhal here. I was going to use Teinaava, but ever since I found Vicente's note to Ocheeva concerning Marie and garlic, I've had this very amusing picture of Marie that I really wanted to use in a fanfiction.

By the way…if you look at my front page where its all "this is me and these are my stories", I have links up now to the thread on reconstructing the Black Hand as well as the Black Hand "family tree" that we've come up with so far.

**Responding to other reviews:** I don't know if that is one of Lucien's "catch phrases" or not, but I just love the way it sounds and was all giddy when writing it in…so now I say Alval uses it too on occasion. Just in my story though. Who knows what he'll do in other peoples' stories!

And thank you! I'm going to try to update a lot more often than once a month…but now that you mention it I am on vacation right now and won't have internet for a week starting tomorrow (hence an update today)…

(gah…too much author's noting…not enough story…ONWARD!)

**EDIT:**  
sorry, one more note. Noir left a comment with a very good point in it: the rank of silencer isn't known outside the Black Hand. Thankyou, Noir, for point that out! I have changed it accordingly as it is definitly (in my opinion anyway) more than a minor mistake

* * *

Lin awoke suddenly to sunlight streaming in through the small window on the far wall of her room. Sitting straight up, her eyes flew to the bedside table which she hoped, no – expected, to find empty as it had been when she'd gone to sleep. Although not empty, the only thing resting on it was her old elven dagger, sitting protectively by her side. 

She sighed a long sigh of relief. Mara, what a dream she'd had! That nord last night had gotten to her. But maybe such paranoia was just something that she'd have to get used to in her situation. Not a pleasant thought, but at least it was moreso than the prospect of being approached by an ancient and – most certainly fictional – order of assassins. Alright, maybe not fictional…Divines, her family had used their services before. Sure, that was generations ago, but unspoken secret as it was, it was still a fact. But this? No. This had been a dream.

Lin swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, her mind returning to where she was going today. With the sun so high in the sky by now, she would be leaving a lot later than she'd hoped to, that would make sneaking out harder to do. Damn her paranoid dream! Maybe she could shop around during the day and set sail under the cover of night. Feet firmly planted on the floor, she leaned over to hold her head in her hands, putting down her dagger that was still clutched in her right hand.

…No, it was on the table. Wait a minute. Lin looked down and her heart fluttered at the sight of the blade that the speaker had given her last night. It was heavier than it looked, but perfectly weighted. The steel blade was cold to the touch and the hilt was wrapped in what looked like beautiful black leather. "This isn't happening" she thought in a slight panic. "Mara, it was a dream…a dream!" She stared at the very real blade in her hands. What was she going to do? An invitation to the Dark Brotherhood. Ha! The idea was almost laughable – her, in the Dark Brotherhood! "I couldn't sneak up on a deaf cave rat!" she thought.

This line of thought continued on for what seemed like hours reaching no conclusion except for the fact that the dunmer had made a mistake. "He watched me kill that nord" she thought. "That was it. And it was in self defense. I was desperate! He misread me. There is no way I could or _would_ even consider this." Mara, this was a trial of faith, and Lin was determined to pass it.

So what to do now? The obvious answer was to forget completely about last night and go down to the Leyawiin docks looking for passage elsewhere just as she had planned to do. Foregoing any breakfast (she was in no mood to eat at the present moment), Lin hoisted her satchel over her shoulder. Replacing her elven dagger in its sheath at her waist, Lin picked up the new dagger again and stared at it wondering what to do with it. It _was_ a gift after all, and it's not like she was _expected_ to accept his invitation. So the gift was given out of goodwill…perhaps even charity (had she just used that word in reference to an assassin's action?). Therefore, there was no harm in keeping it, right? Besides, who else would make any use of it? Some petty criminal could run across it and suddenly this beautiful gift would be in the hands of a common thief. No, that would not do; Lin slid the blade into her belt on her waist opposite the elven dagger, spun around, and left the room with her hood once more drawn far up over her face.

Belmorn didn't even greet the imperial as she passed quickly, yet noticeably, through the main part of the tavern. Everyone grew quiet as she entered the room, but she passed through swiftly and without a word. In fact, the only reason that she didn't run through there was because she was scanning for the dunmer that had visited her last night. Whether it was fortunate or not, he was no where to be found. Quite frankly, it didn't bother her as she'd have had no idea what to say to him even if he had still been there.

Stepping out of Belmorn's Inn, Lin found herself in one of the main streets in Leyawiin, not far from the city's docks. The sun was bright since it was late morning as she walked along the cobbled street between rickety old buildings that composed much of the city's rusted out architecture. As a whole, it reminded her much of Bravil and its poorer residents. "One would think that _someone_ would invest a lot of money into a waterfront city like this," she thought, passing a particularly tipsy building that threatened to come crashing down at any moment. "No wonder Anvil is the leading port in Cyrodiil." Despite the negative economic implications that this may have had on the empire as a whole, or even just for Cyrodiil, the decrepit state of much of Leyawiin made it the best choice Lin had in finding a quiet ship to haul out on.

Like the rest of the city, the harbor had nothing hand built that was particularly striking. Creaking old docks and ramps were built precariously over the water, reaching out to the ships like the fingers of an old man with arthritis. The sea, however, was astonishingly beautiful. Looking out into the horizon, the bright blue sky met the clearest of blue seas in what seemed to be a very blurred boarder. Clouds were reflected serenely on the water's calm surface, all lined in brilliant sunlight. Birds flew overhead, floated upon the ocean, and dove for lunch – all the time squawking and delighting in their seaside home.

The ocean was always a beautiful sight to Lin, who had lived so much of her life land locked in the heart of Cyrodiil. Anvil had provided her first view of the ocean, and for that she'd had a soft spot in her heart for the city since she was a girl. Maybe she could find a similar home in a port city in some other province, and settle down in some seaside apartment until this all blew over. Realistically, she knew she would probably be traveling to avoid her pursuers for a long time, but Mara, she could dream!

"Let's see," she thought, taking in a view of the harbor. "There are five ships docked currently, two unloading, one loading, and the others without much movement." Although common sense told her to ask the ship that was loading cargo where it was going first (as it would logically be heading out first), she wasn't sure if there was any protocol to follow among sailors and decided to pull someone aside to find out. After all, it was better to make a fool of yourself to one person you would likely never see again rather than to a ship full of people whom you may be traveling with for a number of days.

This task, however, seemed a bit more daunting than the first one as Lin found herself a stationary rock in the midst of a throng of bustling people who certainly had better things to do than stop and chat idly. Finally, one argonian stopped just long enough to point and say "Eutei's Inn." Lin turned towards where he pointed and beheld an establishment even more run down than Belmorn's had been. "Great," she thought. "Likely, I'll find more than a nord waiting for me in there." Either way, if that's where the sailors rested, then that was where she would find what she needed.

Lin turned back to thank the argonian, but he'd disappeared into the rest of the crowd. Typical. It was a good thing she had, though, because instead of the argonian, she caught a glimpse of something that made her heart start to pound. Although the sight of local guards didn't worry her as much as it had when she'd started running, the sight of one still gave her quite the adrenaline rush. No worries though…they were never after _her_. In fact, half of the time they were never after anyone in particular.

Maybe. Usually. One would hope anyway. She was just going to turn around and head back toward the Inn that the argonian had pointed out, but something told her not to. Who was the guard talking to? She couldn't see very well, it must have been someone relatively small. A slight break in the crowd of sailors and merchants revealed that it was a bosmer being interrogated…a young one.

Suddenly it didn't matter to Lin anymore who the bosmer was or what the guard wanted. A second, taller argonian in black armor partially hidden under dark blue robes reached out of the crowd and grabbed her arm so solidly that before Lin could react, she was being dragged away in the opposite direction. Making a lunge for her dagger with her unoccupied arm, and trying to struggle out of the argonian's grasp was only met with pain as her captor just tightened its grip on her, keeping the same pace as before.

"_I'd stop that if I were you,"_ a female's voice hissed at Lin.

"Who in Oblivion are you?" cried Lin. "Let go…I'll call the guard!"

"_Now wouldn't that be a sad mistake," _replied the woman in her half whisper, disapproval rife in her tone. _"Besides, it's you they're after, not me."_

"…Me?" Oh Mara, now the _guards_ this far south knew she was here. The nord, alright. He was after her via contract or something….but the guards now too? That would make things a bit more difficult. How did they find out so fast? "How?" she wondered aloud.

The argonian stopped, released Lin and stared at her straight in the eyes. _"How?"_ she asked. _"You think you can kill in front of such a crowd and wander the city freely afterwards?"_

Oh yeah, that damned nord. Lin looked back toward the guard and saw, to her utter despair, that he had started to head this way. Mara. "What should I do!" she pleaded in a whisper to the argonian. Her eyes must have been desperate because the argonian rolled her own and grabbed Lin's arm again, dragging her all the way to Eutei's Inn. Needless to say, Lin didn't continue to struggle.

The Inn was as run down and foul as Lin had even known. Shady figures huddled in low light around tables consuming more than just alcohol. Lin recognized skooma bottles scattered here and there, and every table had a communal bowl of moon sugar. "Well," she thought, "I guess if the guards look the other way concerning skooma here, it's probably a safe enough place to hide." She was placing her full trust in the argonian though. She didn't know why she trusted her so easily…something just felt right in doing so.

"I've got a flounder, Eutei," called Lin's captor from half way across the tavern. A relatively short argonian female clad in rough linens of bright red with strips of matching fabric attached decoratively to her horns looked up from behind the bar to see who was addressing her.

"You're welcome, Shaleez, as always," came her rushed reply. She gave one scrutinizing look to Lin before turning back to her customers.

Shaleez roughly steered Lin behind the stairs to the second story, lifted a trap door that lay hidden behind a number of barrels, and impatiently motioned for Lin to go first. The imperial didn't dare hesitate as she neither wanted to get caught due to a lack of haste, or upset Shaleez.

The trap door led immediately to a short flight of stairs, then to a few rooms under the tavern. Shaleez followed her down into the dimly lit basement and checked to see if anyone else was present. A shadow stirred and the argonian instinctually shifted into a defensive position. "Identify yourself," she commanded into the darkness.

"It's alright, sister," came a reply in the sweetest of manners. A somewhat short female Breton with chin length blonde hair and the same dark armor that Shaleez wore under her robe stepped into a circle of torchlight, and the argonian dropped her stance. "But who is this that you have brought us?" the woman asked with a sparkle deep in her blue eyes. As friendly as she seemed, Lin did _not_ like how this woman was staring at her. That sweetness was hiding something violent. "a local family member, perhaps?"

"Not yet," answered the argonian. "That will depend on the next few choices that this one makes."

Lin drew a sharp breath. Family member? Choices? Mara…more assassins.

"Then may I ask why you brought her here, sister?" continued the Breton. "I wasn't aware that we were _helping_ potentials now." She seemed a bit disappointed. "That would somewhat defeat the purpose if you asked me."

"I didn't ask you, _eliminator._" Shaleez emphasized the last word, which for some reason made the Breton woman drop a bit of what Lin considered a very high-and-mighty attitude. "Now" she said, turning to Lin. "You really are new to this, aren't you?" she asked, almost threateningly, crossing her arms so that she looked like a parent trying to talk some sense into a wayward child.

"I…I beg your pardon?" asked Lin in return. She was taken slightly aback by this question that she honestly had no idea how to respond. "What do you mean, _this_?...and who are you? Why did you care to help me?" Her curiosity and frustration at the whole situation was starting to overshadow her caution, but not by much.

The argonian surveyed the Imperial intently. "Normally, I would have enjoyed watching that guard catch up to you, arrest you, or possibly execute you for murder," she said matter-of-factly. "They do such a good job keeping the local riff raff at bay, and I like to watch the inexperienced squirm…makes me appreciate my training." She narrowed her eyes. "And when prospectives get caught, it just makes our job of sorting who is good for us and who isn't all the easier." The Breton in the background nodded her agreement.

"However…do you have any idea who it is that you killed at Belmorn's?" Lin shook her head and Shaleez chuckled. "The Speaker thought not. Had you known, I doubt you would have succeeded. Fear has this…subconscious effect on people. Don't you agree?"

Lin only nodded again, and the argonian continued. "It's the difference between saying that you've hired Marie over here-," she gestured to the Breton woman "- and saying that you've hired a Dark Brotherhood assassin."

"So who did I kill, that has such a similar effect on people's minds?" Lin asked, trying to get to the point of why the argonian had saved her in the first place.

"Isleif the Pitiless, bounty hunter" she said simply.

Marie gave a little gasp in the corner. "Ohhhh, _he _was you virgin kill?" she seemed impressed.

The argonian nodded. "The speaker realized that it wasn't _exactly_ in cold blood, as we usually require," she said, "however, a virgin kill of such note, and in such a manner as its execution, is most assuredly commendable." Shaleez looked at Lin directly as ever. "I brought you down here and out of the street simply because I respect what you have done. Anyone who could do that without any real training is deserving of at least a chance to make it out of Leyawiin. And a bit of advice to prevent any more…mishaps. Besides, you've already been invited in, so I see no harm in bringing you down here…once."

Mara, this was another dream – it had to be. Certainly, that Marie alone was something out of a nightmare. So she'd _impressed_ not one, but three members of the Dark Brotherhood so far – and was only realizing that she had absolutely no idea what she'd been doing at the time. She'd felt threatened, drawn her dagger, and the rest was a blur until she took it out of the nord's throat. This was getting somewhat ridiculous in her mind – there was no big deal about it. Somewhere in the back of her mind also, she knew also that she had a ship to catch tonight. After that, this would all be over. Maybe she'd go to Vvardenfall after all, where she knew that she wouldn't be followed by these guys. The Dark Brotherhood never operated there, right? They had a more volunteer-based, _legal_ guild of assassins up there…

Either way, advice from a professional outlaw would probably be very welcome to one so new at the trade, so she nodded again for Shaleez to continue.

"Travel at night, young one," she said "and when you kill…don't do it in front of a large group of people. Or else make sure they attack you first – common sense from me to you, potential sister."

"Thank you," Lin said. Heh…she knew the laws. It just never seemed to occur to her that they may actually apply to her too. Well, of course the laws applied to her, but she never figured that THOSE laws would apply to her. Why would she have cause to kill anyway? Apparently that question had been answered.

"I still don't know who you are, though," Lin said tentatively.

The argonian smiled very slightly. "We are sisters, like you may become. That is all you need to know. Now-," she motioned for Lin to follow her to the far end of the room. "This is a tunnel to the surface. You will emerge just outside of Leyawiin city walls in a small grove by the wide river…well hidden from view." She started to walk back toward Marie. "Of course," she continued "you can always try your luck out there," she said, motioning back toward the trap door. "The choice is yours, potential sister, but I have work to do, and Marie must be getting back to her own superiors."

Marie, who had slipped on a set of dark green travel robes over her black armor in the meantime, smiled sweetly at Lin as she turned to mount the stairs to the tavern. "Sithis go with you, potential sister, if you do decide to join us" she called.

"As well as the Night Mother," finished Shaleez, who was also preparing to leave. "Stay down here as long as you need," she said "but know that if any brother or sister of ours finds you down here who doesn't know that I brought you, they will probably end up killing you." Her eyes glinted in warning. "And wouldn't that be a shame, after being so kindly aided by this one?"

And with that the two were gone.

* * *

**me again:**

Ahhhhhh, I'm having WAY too much fun. Which way will she go? Escape back into Cyrodiil? Or try to escape to a different province? I heard that the Folks up in Hammerfell are hiring outlaws…no? Maybe the Morag Tong is looking for help… hmmm…we'll just have to wait and see.

Thank you all for your encouraging comments!


	4. Gaining Passage

**Disclaimer:** nope…still don't own any of it

**Author's Note:** Back from vacation…in a sense. Either way, I now have internet again and am able to update. I actually have a rough draft of part 5 half done too, so you can probably expect another update pretty soon as I'm excited about what's happening. Also, this part, in my opinion, seems to go a bit fast despite the fact that not much happens…but I've edited through it so many times and this is what came out.

Thank you very much again for your reviews! And don't worry about there being a potential lack of our friends over in Cheydinhal, I'll definitely meet the quota. That's my favorite city in the game, and some of those characters are my favorite NPCs. (loves her brothers and sisters)

Onward! To who knows where!

**Update:** The symbol of the Morag Tong, from what I've been told, is most likely a relativly abstract image of Mephala, their patron daedra god(dess), so that's been put in as Llvathar's tattoo.

Also, after installing TES I: Arena, I realized that I made a rather silly mistake geographically and the argonians are _not_ from Elsweyr, they are from the Black Marsh. So...I'm tucking tail, hanging my head in shame, and changing it. Elsweyr (the khajiit homeland) is apperently the opposite of a swamp...its partially desert.

* * *

Up to her own discretion? Lin had made up her mind already this morning…and this little episode wasn't exactly going to change it. Granted, she did appreciate what the argonian had done, but this option just wasn't for her. She walked back across the room and followed in the two assassins' footsteps up the stairs. 

Cautiously, Lin opened the trap door to Eutei's Inn and peaked about for any sign of guards before determining that she was relatively safe for now inside the tavern. How many people or guards knew about that basement under the Inn? More importantly, she wondered how many people suspected it of being a Dark Brotherhood escape route? Because if anyone in this place knew (Eutei most assuredly among them) they would probably think that Lin was actually a member. But who knows, maybe that would actually aid her efforts in escaping the guards. If she was a suspected member – and the guards here turned a blind eye to Brotherhood dealings – then maybe they would figure that going after Lin would get them in to too much trouble, and they'd just give up.

Or maybe it would increase her chances of getting caught. Who knew.

The Imperial emerged from under the stairs and made her way over to the bar to set about trying to find transport to anywhere else. Who to approach first? In a bar, naturally that would be the barkeeper. Lin seated herself on a stool and asked Eutei who she would have the best bet gaining passage elsewhere with. Eutei replied as if giving such an answer had become a reflex. No doubt she was asked the same question over and over by a great many people.

"Inee in the red coat," (Eutei nodded her head toward an argonian at a table to the left) "sails between here and the Black Marsh quite frequently. Guards don't question him much anymore because they know his schedule." Lin took note of this and the argonian continued.

"Rithleen the redguard is new to me," she said in her low and raspy voice, inclining her head toward a table close to the bar on the right. "She sails from Hammerfell, but I do not know where to. The guards don't know Rithleen either, so they will watch her closer than Inee." Hammerfell certainly sounded like a better place than the Black Marsh, but probably not as safe a choice when it came to gaining passage in this city.

"The only other here to ask is Llavther the dark elf." She indicated a dunmer at the other end of the bar. "He comes here once in awhile and I know him a little. He sails from either Ebonhart or Vivic in Morrowind, though I cannot remember which one."

Lin nodded once more, thanked the argonian, and started to get up. Hammerfell, Morrowind and the Black Marsh. Lin had never really been to any of these provinces before, and besides not wanting to end up in a swamp she really had no preference. That left Hammerfell and Morrowind as her top choices. Both were pretty far away which meant that both would be pretty expensive. The best thing to do no doubt was to just to talk to both of the captains and decide based upon price. Or something. She didn't really know, but one was bound to look better than the other.

Eutei chose this moment to reach out to the Imperial and touch her hand slightly, a gesture to which Lin turned around and sat back down as the argonian came in close over the counter. The Innkeeper seemed to have hesitated a little before doing so, but leaned in toward Lin and whispered quickly _"It would be good for you to avoid Llavther. He has certain loyalties on Vvardenfall that you may not wish to meet with."_

Lin looked up at Eutei, but before she could ask her to clarify, the argonian was already tending to an orc a few seats down.

"…Alright then," Lin said quietly to herself as she looked at the three that Eutei had pointed out to her. That narrowed it down some. Normally she might be critical of such advice, but after the way in which this day had gone Lin was set on taking this to heart. Eutei certainly did seem cautious in relaying that, and caution in this sense most likely implied that she was telling a truth that Lin probably shouldn't have been told. Of course, she reasoned that these loyalties of the Dunmer's included someone hostile to the Dark Brotherhood, and as there was a chance that everyone in this tavern could suspect her of being a member of said order (including Llavther), she'd rather not get involved.

Lin surveyed the other two. Despite the fact that Inee would probably be the safest choice, she had no desire to trek through the swampy region that was the argonians' homeland. While they may consider it a paradise, Lin had no ability to breathe underwater and probably therefore no ability to survive very long – very comfortably – in their province. Even if it _was_ only while she was waiting to catch a ship elsewhere.

That left the redguard. Rithleen sat with two others at a table not to far from Lin. She had dark skin, frosty white hair, and an air of absolute authority about her. Her companions certainly seemed to respect her; Lin guessed that that came from years at sea together. As Lin approached, she noticed a partially hidden steel saber hanging at the woman's waist from an old leather belt. No doubt this was not the only blade the redguard carried.

Lin came up to the table across from Rithleen. The presence of an outsider at their table immediately stopped all conversation and drew a cold stare from all three pairs of eyes. "Well, imperial" stated the captain somewhat annoyed at having been interrupted. "What do you want?"

Lin patted the pocket in which she kept her change purse so that the coins would jingle and stated "Passage out of Cyrodiil."

Rithleen stared at her for a moment, then sat back and smiled the smile of a shrewd businesswoman. "I travel between here and Hammerfell," she said "and can drop you at any port in between." She gestured for Lin to take the seat opposite her as she leaned foreword to look at her new customer. "Where ya' headed, hun?"

"North," Lin said simply. "Out of Cyrodiil."

"Don't have any problems here you're not telling me about, do ya?" Rithleen asked already knowing the answer. She knew the cautious mannerisms of an outlaw trying to play it cool.

"Let's just say that I'd like to avoid the notice of any Imperial authority I can," said Lin. "I will pay you for any troubles on my account."

"Will you now?" asked the redguard. "You mustn't have a problem with coin to make such a statement," she said, looking pleased. Lin smiled back at her. The captain exchanged glances with her two companions, both who seemed a tad skeptic about the whole deal.

"To tell you the truth, my dear, I run a very honest business here," said the redguard. "I do offer passage to those who want it, but I don't typically associate with outlaws. Ruins the reputation, you know." Lin was about to defend herself, but she was interrupted by the captain before she could speak up. "However. I don't know that you have committed any crime; you've just got an authority problem is all. Don't ask don't tell. I'll take you where you want."

"I appreciate that," Lin responded. Good, so she had a willing ship; that was easy enough. The only thing left was to haggle. "So, assuming that I want to head north of Elsweyr or the Black Marsh, what is your price?"

Unfortunately for Lin, she would never find out exactly how much Rithleen charged her passengers. Another redguard had entered the tavern and approached the table, not taking notice of the newcomer until midway through addressing his superior.

"Captain. All's been taken care of and –," he stopped and stared at Lin. "It's you! What do _you _want with us?" he said, surprised to see her sitting at the same table as his crewmates and captain. He had had a cautious yet threatening tone as if he was almost afraid of her, but wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Tralan!" Rithleen said sternly. "This woman is our passenger, and is to be treated with _respect_, understood?"

The poor sailor looked like he'd been struck. "Captain, I…" Tralan looked at Rithleen, then to Lin, and turned back to his seated captain and started to whisper something into her ear. Lin tried to remain composed, but shifted nervously in her seat. What on earth could this guy know? He hadn't been in the tavern as she'd been pulled into the basement, so any mistaking her for one of _them _probably wasn't the case. Neither did she recognize him from Belmorn's.

"Imperial problems indeed," said Rithleen after a few seconds, eyes boring into Lin. "You failed to point out that you had every guard in the city after you, not to mention a bounty for murder!" Her voice was very quiet, but definitely dangerous.

"Don't ask, don't tell," Lin stated coolly. "Either way, I'm still in need of passage elsewhere, and now you know how desperate I am." She stared right back at the redguard. "Desperate people are known to pay well." Damn it, this wasn't going to work…

"I run an _honest_ business." Stated Rithleen. "Transporting minor criminals on the side is no problem, but you are too much of a risk." She stared to stand up and her crew followed suit. "Sorry, imperial, no deal."

"Now wait a minute," said Lin, standing with them.

"You heard the captain, imperial." snarled one of Rithleen's crew members. He was a large man with a shaved head and had been sitting to Lin's right during the whole conversation. "No deal."

She watched as the four of them left Eutei's. Mara, there went what she figured had been the best option. Hopefully at least one of the others wouldn't care about her situation as much as Rithleen had. Eutei _did_ say that Inee was not watched as often. Maybe she'd go through a port in the Black Marsh after all…

"_psst. Imperial."_

Lin turned around and was met with an intent stare from the dunmer that Eutei had pointed out earlier. He was sitting in the same place that he'd been when Eutei first mentioned him, probably observing every move that everyone had made in the tavern during his stay. He looked like someone who spent his time observing more than doing. Casually seated on his wooden chair with a bottle of mead in hand, the dunmer motioned for her to come closer. At this point, one of her options being exhausted, Lin decided to hear out his offer. She approached, but only very cautiously. "So, you want quiet passage elsewhere?" he asked softly. Lin nodded. "I can give you that," he said simply. "Have a seat."

She sat in the chair next to him as he had indicated, but her hand was hovering above the hidden hilt of her elven dagger. What exactly had Eutei meant by his 'loyalties'? Either way, she was definitely going to keep her advice in mind.

"I can take you straight to Vivic – leading city on Vvardenfall in Morrowind," he stated. He was extremely curt and to-the-point, getting straight to business.

"Low price, no stops along the way, and no questions asked."

The deal seemed too good to be real for Lin. What was he hiding? Llavther almost reminded her of Marie, with all of the dangerous undertones, but none of the outward sweetness – not someone that she would want to travel with for such a long journey. But still…she had very little choice left in this matter.

"I take it you overheard my conversation with the other captain," Lin said "what makes you want to take me, knowing what you know?"

The dunmer smiled. "My own reasons. Call it sympathy for you maybe. Call it greed on my part – you are right you know. Desperate people tend to pay better than most." His red eyes seemed to glow in the dark tavern as Lin was growing more and more uncomfortable.

"Why Vivic?" she asked. She didn't like the idea of being boxed into only one port option. "Say I pay you to drop me off elsewhere...Mornhold or Ebonhart perhaps?"

"You will go to Vivic with me, or you will not travel on my ship," he said. "Take it or leave it, you're choice."

"And no amount of coin will persuade you otherwise?" Mornhold was definitely not out of the way, Lin was testing his flexibility here. Not that it would matter to her what port she got off in, but why was he so intent Vivic?

"It'd have to be a goodly amount for me to go out of my way," he said. "Besides, if you want to go to Ebonhart, you can walk from Vivic."

Lin sat thinking for awhile. What was it about this mer that made her so uncomfortable? Maybe she was just subconsciously reminded of the speaker when looking at him. He had the same weathered blue-gray skin, the same intense red eyes. This one was dressed in an embroidered blue shirt and black pants. When he reached for his drink, Lin caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his forearm. It looked like a figure with multiple arms and spider webs, although it was kind of abstract and Lin wasn't too sure. Either way, the symbol was one that she felt that she should probably recognize, but couldn't quite place it.

"Well, sir," she said. "You certainly present a good deal." The dunmer inclined his head toward her. She really didn't know what she was going to do with this though. "When would you set sail?" she asked. More information is always a good thing.

"This evening, about two hours before the sun sets," he answered. "Four hundred septims."

"Four hundred septims!" Lin exclaimed. She had expected to pay around a hundred and fifty, _maybe_ two hundred considering the risk that any captain would run taking her on…but four hundred was outrageous.

"_Discount_ price for you, deary," he said. "Especially considering all of the trouble that you could give me."

"Look, I realize that I'm wanted," she said in a very rushed, low voice. She was trying to argue her way into this, but trying even harder not to get noticed by anyone else. "but I really am not _that_ dangerous of a person. Not so much to merit a _discount_ price at four hundred."

The dunmer put his drink down hard on the table and stared at Lin. "_Between the guards and the Brotherhood, you are more of a danger to me than I should even consider taking on._" This was almost whispered to Lin with a tone that could have been full of malice, she wasn't quite sure.

"Then why do you consider it?" she shot back at him, just as harshly.

"Again…call it greed on my part." His red eyes gleamed. This wasn't a very good situation after all. Maybe it was best just to forget about the whole thing.

"Thank you sir," she said coldly "but I think I'll shop around a little more before deciding."

Lin got up before he could respond properly. "Have it your way, imperial," he called after her. "But my services are still open to you, if you have need."

Lin sat back down at the bar. She wasn't going to Inee yet, although after that interview with the dunmer, she had definitely decided that Inee's route would be the safest. Right now, though, she wanted to know more about the dunmer. Lin called to Eutei.

"What will you have?" the argonian asked.

Lin described the dunmer's tattoo in as few words as possible. "What kind of symbol is this?" she asked the argonian in a whisper. Eutei gave her a somewhat confused look, but it only lasted for a fleeting moment. She turned around and poured Lin a drink, charging her two septims, checked to make sure the dunmer wasn't staring at her, and whispered back _"Mephala,_ _patron of the_ _Morag Tong."_

Ah. Lin took the drink, paid her tab, and stared at the glass. That's why he didn't seem to like her very much. "He thinks I'm a Brotherhood member, probably like half of the others in this place," she thought. Not a good idea. Why would he want to take her then? Greed? Probably not. She didn't know, but it was definitely, most assuredly a bad idea to get in the middle of an assassin feud. Morrowind was now out of the question.

"Mara, look at where I've gotten." She thought. Turning to scan the bar for Inee, she started to wonder whether this had been worth it or not. "I guess it doesn't matter," she concluded after a moment and a few sips, "What's done is done."

Lin started to get up to talk to Inee, but didn't get one step away from the bar before the door to the tavern opened and two guards walked in at a seemingly casual pace. Lin turned back to facing the bar as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself. Thankful that she had never lowered her hood, she started thinking of what to do next.

Her mind was racing. No way was she going to go back down below the tavern again. Not only because she was afraid another one of _them_ would be down there to kill her, but because if the guards saw her going down there, who knew what trouble that would lead to. Eutei must have seen her inner panic because she came by to pick up the imperial's half empty glass and whispered "rooms, upstairs."

Heart pounding, Lin walked as casually as she could to the stairs in the back and started to climb. A slight peak at the guards showed that they were unquestionably in pursuit of someone, but were stopping to examine all occupants of the tavern. One was posted at the door, probably to examine people as they left. The whole time, the barkeeper pretended to take no notice, and Lin snuck upstairs.

The upper level of the Inn was comprised only of a small hallway with three doors, each probably leading to a renting room. Partially panicked, Lin picked the lock on the first door, ran inside, shut and locked it, and leaned against it with her eyes closed in a cold sweat. Mara protect her!


	5. The Waning Domain of Mara

**Disclaimer: **(begging Bethseda) Can I have some? Just a little? Pretty please?...

**Author's Notes:** This one may be a little shorter than the last few chapters, but it's quite a bit more exciting than the last one. I was originally going to combine this with part of chapter 6 due to length, but realized that that would probably just take away from the magnitude of what happens here. Plus I like the ending. Chapter 6 _is_ in the works by the way…actually 6 and 7 are both outlined…

Also, I'm not sure if people in Cyrodiil consider the Nine equal in divinity or if they take patrons as our own ancient polytheistic societies did, so let's pretend that they do and Lin's patron is Mara - mother deity, kind of Isis figure of the Divines.

Oh, and the Argonians hail from the Black Marsh. (doh!). woohoo for downloading _TES I: Arena_ and being corrected, eh? I've gone back and fixed…sorry!

* * *

"Mara, protect me!" The cry rang off of the dull walls. Lin opened her eyes to see an imperial woman, only a little younger than herself, with long brown hair and large scared green eyes. She was wearing a simple brown and olive green robe and didn't seem to have much else with her. 

"No, please!" Lin spoke in a very quiet, hurried tone. "Shhhh! Please! I'm not going to hurt you, just please, don't yell!"

"Who are you! What do you want!" her hands had not sprung to any weapon, as Lin had expected at this point, but to a necklace on which hung the symbol for the Divine Mara.

"Divines, of all the rooms, I have to dive into the one with the pilgrim," thought Lin, who had instinctively drawn her own dagger when the girl had started to scream. Of course, the weapon didn't help the situation; it just made the girl more frightened.

"I'll…I'll call the guards!" she continued franticly.

"Please, just calm down!" Lin was still speaking in a quiet tone. "Look, I ran into the wrong room, I'm sorry, I didn't –," the girl wouldn't be quiet. "I know this looks bad! Believe me, but –," she just kept wailing. Divines! If the guards downstairs heard this, Lin was finished. They would catch her and cart her off not only for murder, but now for trespassing and assault on a pilgrim. Probably throwing in charges of being a Dark Brotherhood member. There _had_ to be some way to make her stop causing such noise! It was a life or death situation. If the guards caught her in this, there wouldn't be any chance to even pay a bounty for what she'd done. They would just come in and execute her, right here. That'd be it. Everything would have been for nothing. And that was not something that Lin was ready to accept for anything. She had not acted in vain.

Desperately, Lin moved in toward the girl and clapped her hand over her mouth and forced her against the back wall. It didn't help much but to muffle her. Lin's other hand acted without thinking. She held her dagger up to the girls throat. "Shut up, or that's it for you!" The panic had driven her beyond her senses.

The imperial's eyes were huge as they stared into Lin's. They pleaded with her, begged her to let her go. Lin just tightened her grip until the woman made no sound. The quiet in that moment was probably the most relieving sound that Lin had ever heard. But the pilgrim wasn't going to allow a dagger to be held at her throat for very long. She sent an elbow straight into Lin's gut trying to break free. Lin doubled over, but managed to maintain a hold on the woman, left hand now firmly grasping her upper arm. The woman tried to bolt toward the door, but Lin pulled her back and tried to force her against the wall. There was no way that she would allow her to escape this room. Not right now anyway. In her mind she was pleading with the woman to stop, to just be quiet and sit down for awhile until this all passed.

One more attempt at bolting away from Lin toward the door ended with Lin pulling back on the imperial with all of her strength. A great _thud_ announced the woman's collision with the wall behind them. She bent over onto her knees, panting, arm still firmly in Lin's grasp. A small trickle of blood had begun to run from the back of her head where she had been thrown into the hard wood.

"What…" she could barely get the words out between gasps for air. "What do you want with me?" she asked, apparently resigning herself to whatever her assailant had in store for her. She had taken quite a beating, and that last blow seemed to have grounded her for a good while.

"Mara, I didn't come in here to hurt you," Lin said, quietly. "I came up here to hide, and ran into the wrong room." She looked down with pity at the bloodied young pilgrim. "But you made such a _noise_!" Lin exclaimed at her in a whisper. She was terribly guilty but starting to feel rather angry at her. Why couldn't she have just been quiet when told that it was all a mistake? "The guards could be coming up here right now because of you!" Lin looked around, what was she going to do?

"Stendarr take pity on your sinful soul," whispered the pilgrim, still bent over and staring at the ground, a small pool of blood forming under where her head hung. "because Akatosh surely will not." This infuriated Lin, but she went on uttering curses. "May Mara abandon you!" the young woman spat.

"That's it!" Lin exclaimed in an enraged whisper. "You are going to help me out of this!" she threw the girl to the ground almost as hard as she had thrown her into the wall. "Disrobe!" she commanded, holding the pilgrim at blade point. "Now! Only your outer robe!"

She forcefully helped the young imperial out of her simple garment. When the olive and brown robes were laying on the floor about a meter from Lin's captive, she stripped off her own outer layer and threw the dark garment at the girl along with a command to put them on. This command was followed dutifully as the young pilgrim was now more concerned with saving her life through compliance rather than force.

"Good," said Lin, "now kneel back where you were."

"Please!" the girl had turned back to begging "allow me to live…I am on a pilgrimage to the chapel of Mara…" as scared as she must have been, the fear in her voice was beginning to fade as she had grown weaker.

"You'll live…so long as there's a healer nearby," said Lin coldly. She really couldn't bare the idea of having to kill this poor woman, but she couldn't just leave her conscience. Lin was forming an escape plan, but needed a little bit of time. That was something that could only be bought while the girl was incapacitated.

The pilgrim shuddered and gave a sob, but her wound was really taking a toll on her. It shouldn't take much force…

Lin lifted her dagger – the one that the speaker had given her – and struck the woman's head with the hilt. She collapsed onto the floor. Lin got down on her hands and knees and gathered that the pilgrim was still breathing, but in desperate need of healing. Once more guilt ridden, she went through the woman's belongings as quickly as she could, grabbing two books (a copy of Pilgrim's Path Through Cyrodiil and another that looked like a journal) as well as her necklace. The pendant portraying Mara seemed like a heavy weight around Lin's neck as she packed up her own stuff, quickly threw on the woman's robes, and braced herself to meet what was surely outside the door.

One last look at the younger woman and Lin could almost imagine that it was herself lying on that wooden, blood soaked floor. She'd pulled the hood way up over the imperial's head so that the guards couldn't see that it wasn't who they were looking for. As for herself, Lin tied her hair back in a tight ponytail and hid it down the back of her robes. She pulled her own hood way up over her head, grasped the two books in one hand and the necklace in the other – all close to her face.

A pounding at the door. "I'm done…just in time," thought Lin. Her heart was beating faster and harder than ever. She was afraid the guards would hear it, or that it would choke her and give her away. Should she pray to Mara to protect her? Lin wasn't sure if that was even such a good idea right now as one of her pilgrims lay at Lin's feet. She was on her own for the moment, but this was not the time or place for the shock of such a realization to set in.

More pounding. Lin threw herself on the door and collapsed as it opened, finding herself at the feet of the two guards and Eutei the Innkeeper. She made sure to keep the pendant and the books close to her face as she sobbed and gasped and muttered incomprehensively about a woman trying to kill her.

"By Zenithar!" exclaimed Eutei. "You poor thing, come!" she said, trying to raise up the sobbing woman. "we must get you something to help you calm yourself!" she looked very concerned. "You are safe now," she cooed softly in what must have been considered a comforting voice to an argonian "it is alright."

"Are you hurt, ma'am?" asked one of the guards urgently. Lin shook her head and tried to stumble past the guards into Eutei's supporting embrace. The argonian's offer was a relief to Lin as it would probably get her out of range of the guards easier than she expected while they were left to inspect the body on the ground.

Eutei put her arm around the imperial and started to lead her down the stairs. "I'd like to question her first!" a guard said sternly to Eutei. The other guard was paying more attention to searching the room than checking the body at the moment.

"I'm bringing her downstairs for now," said Eutei firmly. "I'll calm her down. I don't think she's in the proper mindset to answer any questions."

"Fine," relinquished the guard. "but keep it legal with this one, understood?"

Eutei nodded in response and continued to guide a still sobbing Lin down the short flight of stairs. When just out of sight of the guards, Lin stopped shaking and glanced up at Eutei. "Get the girl a healer, Eutei!" she whispered urgently. "As quickly as you can!"

The surprise that Lin expected to find on the argonian's face wasn't there when her eyes met the innkeeper's. Eutei nodded, released her from her grasp, and Lin flew around the corner, behind the barrels under the stairs, and disappeared beneath the hidden trap door.

…

It was dark in the room under the Inn. The torchlight was dim as Lin scurried back to where Shaleez had shown her the entrance to the escape tunnel. Thankfully, nothing stirred – although after Lin's luck it wouldn't have surprised her much to find a legion of assassins in here waiting to kill her for trespassing.

The Imperial woman leaned up against a cold stone wall for a brief moment to catch her breath. Her heart had never beaten so fast! _Deep breaths. Calm down_. Mara, what had she done? It didn't matter right now, she just had to keep going. _Don't think about it_. The pilgrim's green eyes were etched solidly into her mind. They were still filled with fear. _Just grab the torch and GET OUT. _

Lin planted an iron grasp onto the wooden torch that had been hanging onto the wall and opened the small door to Shaleez's tunnel. A musty breeze wafted over her from the dark, causing the torch's flame to dance wildly and almost forbidding her entry. This was not a domain of Mara. But then, what business had she in the territory of the Mother Divine? After what she'd done?

She shook her head and sighed. One foot in front of the other, one at a time. Although the torch cast light upon her immediate surroundings, the tunnel went on much further than she could see. It was a huge, cold void that seemed to threaten to devour her very being. Chills ran down her spine as she began to realize how alone she was in the world. Such a void was definitely not a place of Mara – it was the essence of Sithis himself. That mystical, cold being worshipped by the assassins that inhabited this place. It was almost too much. But she had to go through here, it was the only way.

The door closed behind her and Lin moved further cautiously, yet determinedly into the earthen tunnel. If Shaleez was right, she'd emerge by the river that ran from the sea to the Imperial City. Clutching the pilgrim's copy of Pilgrim's Path Through Cyrodiil, as well as the heavy pendant necklace, Lin knew exactly where she had to go.


	6. Cleaning Up

**Disclaimer: **I own the laptop that I'm typing this on…how much does that count?

**Author's Note:** I felt really bad posting such a short chapter yesterday….and I knew that this one was going to be just as short…so I decided to work on this an extra few hours today and finish this chapter up so that the two short ones can somewhat seem like a nice long one. (I guess I didn't want the evil karma that results from short posts…and I know I don't like waiting waiting waiting for an update and getting only like…3 pages) ;)

So enjoy, and I promise that with as long as my outline is for chapter 7, it will definitely be decently sized. It may take longer than these last few did, but I promise not to dally!

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"There we go, dear. Easy now." The white khajiit moved her hands slowly but surely over all of the young imperial's wounds, focusing much of her time and effort concentrating on the poor woman's head. A soft blue glow seemed to envelope the pilgrim as she lay awake on her creaky wooden bed in Eutei's Inn. "You will be alright," the healer said softly. "But you will probably be rather fatigued for a short time. Just rest for now." 

Eutei had kept her promise to Lin. As soon as the outlaw had flown under the trap door, the Innkeeper sent one of her regulars to the Chapel of Zenithar for a healer. Lin had been lucky because not two minutes after she'd fled, another five guards came barreling through the doors. Apparently the watches here had heard the racket and sent for reinforcements before trying to confront their criminal.

"She got away from me," was the only answer that (a now limping) Eutei offered to the guards on Lin's escape. "How was I to know that that was her, anyway?"

Of course, they didn't all believe the Innkeeper on this matter, but then they weren't about to question her either. All of the older guards in the city knew about that trap door, and all of the new ones heard about it through exaggerated stories told by their superiors. "We aren't paid to die," they were told. And jumping through that door was certainly a way to end everything pretty quickly.

Despite that, they couldn't just let the whole investigation die because the woman flew through the wrong hole in the ground. Or at least, it couldn't look that way. This is why the two already present had insisted on staying to question the pilgrim. Someone else had been sent to fetch Belmorn. Damn it, something was going to be accomplished here, even if just to save the town's guards from looking like cowards and idiots.

"What do we have, Leo?" whispered one of the newcomers to another of the two original guards.

The sandy haired imperial looked from the pilgrim on the bed to his companion and answered quietly. "Just a description is all, Sen. Don't even know for sure if it matches the one Belmorn gave." He was standing with his arms crossed as he watched the khajiit bring life back into the poor girl.

"Is it true she dove…you know where?" Sen asked, already knowing the answer but hoping that just maybe it may have changed in the last few minutes.

"yep," Leo answered simply.

Sen cursed. "What are we supposed to do?" he asked. "I mean…every other crime committed in this city just runs down that hole and suddenly we're helpless."

Leo shrugged in response. Sen continued "you know, the Count should really do something about that. Rumor has it he's not the only high up that's been scared into –"

Leo shot him an angry look warning him to be quiet and jerked his head toward the Innkeeper who was also paying attention to the khajiit at the moment. Sen dropped it pretty fast, eyes full of frustration.

"Well, we'll do what we can," Leo said. "And content ourselves with that." Sen sighed and dropped the conversation.

Two sets of footsteps on the stairs hailed the arrival of Belmorn and his escort. The barkeeper looked haggard and tired after his night trying to clean up the mess made in his pub the night before. "So she struck here too, eh?" he asked quietly upon seeing the khajiit and pilgrim.

"We aren't sure yet if it was the same person, sir," Leo answered in an official tone. "But we do mean to find out after questioning both you and the young pilgrim."

"Question nothing," said Belmorn plainly. "That's her robe right there!"

Sen crossed the small room, picked up the dark blue garment and handed it to Belmorn. "Please make sure you are completely positive, sir. This would make it certain that it's the same person at work here."

Belmorn took the fabric in his hands. It was definitely the same robe. Same color, same texture, even the same little silver clasp at the neck. "I'm positive" he said, handing it back to the Imperial. She was wearing this when she'd bought her dinner, when she'd bought her room, when she'd killed Isleif. When she'd stared him down daring him to challenge her. And when she'd fled this morning. "It's hers."

The guards nodded at each other, relieved at least in the fact that it was only one madman on the loose rather than two. But that one was probably more dangerous then they cared to deal with.

The healer finally rose to her feet, light blue robes rustling around her as she stood. Fine white fur covered most of the khajiit's body, except for small patches of gray that were signs of her age. "She should be fine," she announced. "Just let her rest for the day and the night, and tomorrow morning will see her as well as when she woke up today."

"That is very good to know," said Eutei. "I'll give her the room for free as long as she needs."

"You are generous," returned the healer. "Now, shall I look at your leg? I noticed that you were limping…" her voice was genuine but Eutei protested, trying not to refuse the offer _too_ obviously.

"No, it's not much a small potion won't help," she said. "But thank you for the offer." A quick glance at the guards showed that they didn't even think twice about it. Good, she always knew that they were the dense type anyways.

With that, the healer took her leave and headed back to the Chapel. The pilgrim was sitting propped up on a few pillows against the wall. Eutei sunk to the back of the group as Leo pulled a stool up next to the bed. "Feeling better?" he asked the bedridden woman.

"I…I think so. Yes. Better than before anyway." She seemed still rather dazed from her experience.

"Can you tell us your name?" he asked delicately, trying not to sound too official.

"Vala," she said quietly. "Vala Delitian, of Pell's Gate." She noticed the questioning looks on some of her audience's faces and clarified "it's a small village, south of the Imperial City, on the water of Lake Rumore."

"And you're on a pilgrimage?" he prodded.

"Yes" she answered. "I came here to visit the Chapel of Zenithar, it is the seventh Chapel in Cyrodiil that I have been to."

"And where are you headed?" he asked her to continue.

"I was to leave today for the shrine of the Nine Divines, and then continue on to Bravil where I would end at the Chapel of Mara. The priestess said that she is going to take me in as an apprentice."

Leo nodded. Everyone was quiet in the room. Who would wage such an attack on this kind of person? Of course, all who knew about the trap door were thinking the same answer to this, but none would dare speak it out loud.

The guards and two Innkeepers gathered around Vala in the small room as she related the events of the morning in as much detail as she could remember. Her description of her assailant matched Belmorn's, even going into more detail than he could. They were surprised when she told them about the woman's repeated claims of not wishing violence on her; once finished however, there was no doubt in anyone's mind concerning two matters. Firstly, it was definitely the same person who had committed the two crimes. Secondly (and again, this was not voiced out loud), she was undoubtedly a member of the Dark Brotherhood. No one else could have pulled this off anywho.

After Vala had told everything that she could, Eutei, Belmorn, and the guards left her room to let her get some rest like the healer had told them. Eutei wanted nothing more to do with the situation and told the guards so. "If you need me for anything else, you know where to find me," she said. "But as of now, I'm washing my hands of it and getting on with my other customers."

Frustration was obviously high among both the guards and Belmorn, although Belmorn tended to see people get away with things all too often to let this get to him as much as it bothered the guards. True, he would have liked to see her taken in, but it was the same situation here as it was back when he first saw what she was capable of – he was torn between life and honor. And damn it, he was choosing to keep his head firmly planted on his shoulders…or something like that. He left Eutei's Inn in the company of the two guards who had originally run into the pilgrim's room before the outlaw had escaped (they had agreed to escort him back to his own tavern at his request). Who knew what could pounce on him after this little episode.

The three walked out the door to the Inn and into the midday sunshine. The docks were bustling at the height of the day just as they always were. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"_So she got away, eh?"_

The men stopped and turned toward where the hiss had come from. Surely that was the only way to describe the way in which those words had been uttered.

"_Pity."_

A dunmer slid out of the shadows in front of the building and approached the three Imperials. He was tall and had long black hair that was worn tied back into a slick pony tail. He had a nicely tailored blue outfit on and his walk was elegant and smooth – that commonly seen in dancers and acrobats…or thieves.

"And what exactly do you care about the matter?" asked Leo in as official and commanding a voice as he could muster at the moment. Divines, he really didn't need any more trouble today.

The dunmer chuckled deep in his throat and drew in close to the three other men. "Trust me," he said "I _could_ have a vested interest in the woman you seek." The mer rolled up the lower part of his sleeve, revealing the small tattoo of Mephala that adorned his inner arm. Leo's partner didn't seem to recognize the symbol, but Leo and Belmorn stared at it, then back at it's owner in relative disbelief. As if one gang of assassins wasn't enough!

"Now," he continued. "I don't exactly have any writs of execution for this one. Come to think of it, I don't have any writ of any sort legally protecting me from taking any action against her…"

"And what exactly would it take for you to get said protection?" asked Leo, who clearly understood what the dunmer was after.

Red eyes blinked at the Imperials greedily. "I'm sure I could be officially contracted to do it within a few days," he said. "But it would be an expensive contract as it _does_ seem to be a Brotherhood member. Expensive also to send the request to my superiors in Morrowind…and to have them signed by the Grandmaster as this involves out-of-province work…then sent back. In the utmost haste, of course." He smiled a cruel smile. "The personal risk of tracking down a Brotherhood member so deep in their own territory is terrible." He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to Leo. "But it would be worth it to the Morag Tong for this one."

The paper looked like a wanted poster, similar to those plastered across the walls of the Imperial City bearing the image of the Grey Fox. This one had no image, but a detailed description of an Imperial woman, wanted alive by the Count of Skingrad. The description matched their outlaw perfectly.

"It says expressly that she _must_ be taken alive," said Belmorn to the dark elf in front of them. "From what I've heard, that's not how you people operate, is it?"

"Not usually," was the reply. "But we can make an exception…given the circumstances."

"Well, why don't you go ask the Count of Skingrad to patronize you then?" asked Leo, trying hard to mask his interest. He wanted so badly to see this woman brought to justice…and right now this seemed like the only way.

The assassin laughed. "Cyrodiilian nobility…actually any nobility outside of Morrowind... would never contract with us." He was genuinely amused at the idea. "It's neither legal here, nor is it convenient with the Brotherhood in your backyard." Leo handed him back the paper. "Besides," he continued "if the other nobles found out, the one hiring would be shunned by his peers, then disemboweled by the Brotherhood for contracting with us." He saw the sudden fear in their eyes at that last part and quickly corrected himself "or something…probably not disemboweled, but definitely not liked by them for going to the competition."

"Well…" Leo shifted somewhat nervously. "Look, I can't do anything for you personally…but I will take you to talk this over with our local captain." He seemed genuinely interested. Belmorn agreed to accompany them so that he could give his testimony to the captain and help to try and persuade him to hire this mer.

"I would love to get straight to work, directly after this chat with your commander," the dunmer answered. "After all…I don't need a writ to follow someone."

"Sen said we should do something about this," thought Leo as they headed back to the city barracks. "And we've all wanted to for a long time now. Maybe this is finally our chance to free ourselves from at least a fraction of the corruption around here." The idea was as welcoming to him as the ocean breeze on a hot day.


	7. Old Friends

**Disclaimer:** It's all Bethesda's. Anora is mine though, so I'm making progress on the "I own this" meter, eh:) And the "Valtieri girl" is actually an incredibly well developed, absolutely wonderful and amazing character that my friend created for a much higher purpose than this humble fanfic. I just had to use her somehow, and I am very happy that he has let me! Hopefully, she will make an actual appearance later on…but for now I'll have to content myself with vague references...

**Author's Note:** uhhhh, ummmmm, hi everyone! (hides)

…no wait, I've BEEN hiding. Heh heh…sorry . . I ummm, here! Have an update! To be honest with all of you, I had absolutely no idea whatsoever where this story was going when I started it, and I had no clue what Lin had done or why she was running etc. But I know now! Boy, is it kind of complicated, but here's the essential background! Plus an awesome new character! Yay Vampires!

As it is summer, I promise a plethora of updates. I lost touch during the semesters, sorry. That won't happen again till late August at LEAST! And by then I may have even finished it . Enjoy!

* * *

Honestly, Orcs were so difficult to deal with these days. At least the brand here in Cyrodiil seemed to be a bit more...refined than those half barbarians that lived in the mountains of High Rock. And of course, Janus would never employ anyone under him who could be considered less than bright. But still, this was really getting ridiculous. What did one have to do in these parts to see an old friend?

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the Count isn't seeing anyone," the great green man repeated for probably the tenth time. Anora suddenly wished that she hadn't taken so much precaution in making up her appearance today. Even if her skin _was_ paler then should be normal for a Breton, a redder shade in her eye would probably go a long way in convincing the butler to let her see the Count. But she couldn't just blurt it out, could she? _Excuse me, sir, but if you do not permit me to visit my friend, I will drain you of half the blood in your body. _No, that would not do at all.

But everything was alright. After a few centuries, one should have learned how to keep a hold of ones patience. And after a few centuries in High Rock, one should definitely have learned how to get what they want from an Orc.

"Fine then," she half turned as if to leave. "But do tell the Count that I came by, and give my regards to Mrs. Hassildor. It has been far too long since I've had the pleasure of her company." _Not that I ever knew her very well, but no matter._

Shum gro-Yarug's eyes went wide. "Mrs. -- but, wait. How --?" She turned back around lazily and he stared at her, momentarily dumbfounded. Anora took this as her cue.

"Oh, Rona and I go way back," she said smoothly. "I've known her almost as long as Janus --" and with that she smiled as toothy a smile as she could manage. Again, damn her for taking such care in her appearance today!, the Orc was probably too dim to notice the shrunken fangs. Nonetheless, realization was starting to dawn on the beast and his eyes grew even wider, if that was possible.

"Umm, you know what, ma'am -- you should speak to Hal-Liurz. She is the Count's official steward and would be the person to grant you an audience." He seemed nervous now, but much more accommodating. "Please, take a seat and I will fetch her for you." The Orc motioned towards a small table with two chairs in the corner of the Great Hall. Anora nodded, gave her thanks to the butler, and sat herself while Shum half ran up a flight of stairs and into the heart of the Castle. The vampress smiled to herself. That was tasking, but at least she was getting closer.

Anora Lamont arranged herself on one of the cedar chairs as directed by the Orc. She placed as much of her black cloak behind her as she could so as to reveal the opulent dress of black and burgundy velvets underneath. Candlelight glinted off of its gold trimming while a jewel encrusted pendent at her neck glowed dimly with what seemed to be a light of its own. She rested her arms regally on each armrest, making sure that each hand was placed at just the right angles for her rings to glint at anyone taking notice of her. With her hood down, a loose braid of blonde hair was allowed to snake its way down the back of the chair, stopping around the middle with a slight curl. By Sithis, it was good to be back in the circle of high society! It had certainly been awhile, but no number of centuries would ever be able to roughen the touch of the noble born Breton.

Hal-Liurz hardly put up a fight. She was a tad brighter than Shun, and whether she recognized the vampress for what she was, or whether the Orc had warned her beforehand, Anora was quickly bade to follow the silk clad Argonian. Her obvious tension told Anora that the admittance of guests in this manner was probably not common practice, and surely anything out of the ordinary would be unnerving to people who knew the nature of the Count. Either way, it did not matter to the Breton. She was here for a purpose. She just hoped that Janus had forgiven their last encounter by now.

After turning a few corners and following a few tapestry covered hallways, the pair stopped in front of a locked door. Hal-Liurz fished a silver key from an inner pocket and opened it for the guest. The room in front of them was pitch black. "You have been announced already," she informed the guest, and motioned for her to continue on by herself. Anora smiled. Janus was not one to take chances, was he? With little effort, the vampress adjusted her eyes, focusing them without the aid of any light. After all of this time, she had never quite gotten rid of the blueish haze that this kind of sight resulted in, but no matter. The form of the room's single inhabitant became quickly outlined. Hal-Liurz closed the door behind Anora as she stepped inside, hailing her old friend.

"So, Madame Lamont," he started cautiously, yet awfully businesslike. Maybe too businesslike for Anora. "Last I heard, you were in Vvardenfall, and would be for a rather long time." His bloodshot eyes glowed blue in her focused gaze. "What, then, has brought you so deep into Cyrodiil? Into my home again, nonetheless?"

She smiled. "Janus, my dear, are we not close enough to be informal with one another?" He raised an eyebrow slightly but she continued. "Besides, that was over half a century ago. One can only take so much of that gods forsaken island before his or her need to return to civilization drives one mad."

He started to smile back at her, but caught himself and continued to frown. "Indeed, I can only imagine."

She stared at the Count. He had not moved. Maybe he hadn't quite forgiven her after all. "You are wary of me?" she sighed.

"And why should I not be?" He looked as if he wanted to enjoy this meeting, but had to keep reminding himself that he was still upset with her. "Last time I saw you, my dear, you came begging sanctuary from gods know how many vampire hunters. You came here! Because, of course, that would arouse _no_ suspicion whatsoever…"

She had to admit, it _had_ been a bad situation. "You know that had been none of my doing-"

"Yes, yes, blame the Valtieri girl all you like," the Count interrupted, "but if I remember correctly, _you_ came in here asking me to hide her. Bringing the hunters into my city with you, making them think that I could be harboring such abominations as ourselves. Yes?"

Anora started to let her focus lapse and caught flicks of red in his accusatory glare. "What was done was done," she said after a short silence. "Vicente took care of everything, didn't he?" Janus started to protest, but Anora would have none of it. She had business of her own to get to, and settling an old argument was not on the top of her priority list.

The Count sighed and reached for a bottle of wine that had been sitting on a small table nearby. "Well, of course he did. His word is always good." She smiled again, and this time he smiled back. "Tamika's?" The vampress nodded and seated herself at the table. "Good. I have always preferred it to Surilie's."

"I know" she answered, accepting a goblet with a grin. He sat the bottle down, lit the three candles in the middle of the table, and sat down across from her. The candles were tiny in the large room and sent huge shadows dancing across the walls, but the dim light was more than enough for the two vampires to see by.

"So, if you are not being chased this time," he started, in a much more friendly manner, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Anora dug into a deep, velvet lined pocket and withdrew a small wanted poster. The worn piece of parchment had the likeness of a young Imperial girl as well as a copy of the Count's seal. "I am afraid that business has brought me here again, my friend," she said.

"Yes well, all the time of a thousand lives, and none of it to be devoted to pleasure, hmm?" The Count remarked with a somewhat tired grin. He didn't even take the paper from her, he knew exactly what she wanted. "I was wondering when one of you would show up for her. Asking me for details and the like." He finished off his goblet and started to pour another for himself. His guest refused the refill. "Although I must ask, why you? You seem a little too…important, perhaps?...to be chasing down one girl like that."

"On the surface, perhaps," the vampress answered. "But the high-ups in Morrowind have reason to believe that it is the Tong that is after her." Janus arched an eyebrow, she continued. "You know her family is a financial asset to us…a _very_ old customer."

"How could I forget?" He asked, seemingly annoyed. "They have a tendency to forget that I have friends of my own." At that he tipped his glass toward Anora in a form of friendly salute.

"Yes well, we are afraid that she has become a pawn in a game that she may not even know her family plays." She paused. "And I must impress upon you that not every one of us exactly knows what this family means to the Brotherhood. In fact, very few would be privy to this information…"

He laughed. "And they trust _you?_" he asked jokingly.

"Well," she answered, "I have well informed friends," and she tipped her glass back toward Janus.

The Count sat and thought for a moment before getting up slowly and walking toward a lavish cedar desk. "And a group of assassins has found it in their hearts to save an innocent life?" He asked rather sarcastically.

"Well, we figure it is the least we can do to protect her…given all that they have relied upon us for in the past," Anora said, watching her friend. "Besides, it is a matter of honor."

"Ahh, honor." He smiled as he rifled through a pile of papers – all of which looked like new orders of business for the Count.

"Yes well, how would it look if the Morag Tong ended up eliminating the last heir to one of our major backing families in Cyrodiil?" She asked. "Sithis forbid, people may learn of this and think that they could perform other acts outside of Vvardenfall! No, we cannot take that risk."

"I understand," he replied, "and hopefully this will help." The Count handed her a hastily scribbled report – it looked like a witness' statement and was stamped with an official seal of Leyawiin. "Either way, it is the only lead I have for you besides the fact that the girl left my city exactly seven and a half days ago, and that you may be able to visit her father if you have questions."

Anora took the paper in her hands. The handwriting was nearly illegible, but the statement contained a description of a wanted criminal, roughly matching the picture on her poster. "Wanted in Leyawiin for murder?" she asked her friend, her ruby eyes widening.

"You girl is leaving her mark," he answered, somewhat amused. "Are you sure she isn't aware of her family ties?"

"I am not entirely sure," the vampress answered. "However, I would think that if she were, she would have hired us for help by now."

Janus shrugged, "that would certainly make sense."

Anora thanked the Count and folded up the statement, placing it in her pocket next to the wanted poster. She accepted his offer to stay until the safer hours of the night allowed for the vampress' easy travel, and the two tried to make the best of the few short hours – catching up over the past century. Now that she was back in Cyrodiil, the vampress knew that the two of them would most likely be able to meet again at least within the next decade or so, but when one lived the life of a Brotherhood member, that person could never be too sure if or when that next time would come.

Besides, if the Imperial girl could last this long, she could survive a few more hours on her own, yes?…


End file.
